


Simple As That

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [215]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Caretaking, Growing Up Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 12:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17284367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: When he’s 10 and Shiro’s 16, it’s easy.





	Simple As That

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Guess who finished S6 last night? *happy sob*

When he’s 10 and Shiro’s 16, it’s easy.

Shiro is a guardrail and a guide, the one person in the world who he’ll listen to, the only whose opinion he trusts.

He can say _I wanna quit school_ to Shiro, and Shiro will hear him out.

He can say _That kid deserved to get punched_ to Shiro, and Shiro will listen to the whole story, no interruptions. No _how come, Keith?_ or _what’s wrong with you Keith?_ or _don’t you know any better_?

He can say _I hate my dad_ and bawl and ask questions about his mom and Shiro will make it ok, will sit quietly until he’s done or give him a tissue without asking or not say anything when Keith hugs him, just wrap an arm around his shoulders and hang on to him tight.

Shiro will say, _But you leave now, you won’t get to learn physics. That’s something a good pilot needs._

Shiro will say: _I understand your frustration. He shouldn’t have said what he did. But punching him didn’t make the words disappear, did it? You can’t control what other people do or say. The only person you can control is yourself._

Shiro will say: _You know, Lance’s mom and your mom were best friends. Why don’t we go talk to her tomorrow after school? I think she could answer your questions better than I could._

When he’s 10 and Shiro’s 16, Shiro never lies to him, never pretends to know everything like most grown-ups do. It makes Keith feel like it’s ok for him not to know everything, too.

_Yeah_ , he’ll say, clutching at Shiro’s jacket, his cheek tucked against the worn leather, his eyes closed to everything except the steady beat of Shiro’s heart, the sound of his own breathing, the taste of the last of his tears. _Yeah, Shiro. Ok._

***

When he’s 14 and Shiro’s 20, it’s not as simple as that.

For one thing, Shiro’s not around the neighborhood as much. He’s in college at State a couple towns over, long hours with longer books. He gets back late during the week and on weekends, he’s busy tapping away on his old laptop or reading or even making flashcards one time.

_Hey_ , he’ll say when Keith rings the doorbell on Saturday mornings, tired eyes with a pen in his teeth, _give me a few minutes. I’ll be right out_.

They go on walks like they used to, all the way out to the park and back, and Keith never stops talking: about school, about whatever dumb shit Lance has been up to, about how much he’s enjoying the Feynman book that Shiro lent him from the college library. He saves it up all week, every scrap of interesting thought or occurrence, because who else is he going to tell? His dad doesn’t care and Lance doesn’t grok a lot of it and his teachers, well, he doesn’t trust them.

Even sleepy Saturday Shiro understands more than they do, listens better, gives smarter advice, and that’s even before he’s finished the paper cup of coffee that’s always in his hand these days.

_Yes, take that class_ , Shiro will say, or _Read this book_ or _Consider approaching the problem from a different perspective: what might happen if you asked this question instead?_

He doesn’t put his arm around Keith so much now, but then neither does Keith tend to cry.

Sometimes, they sit on the steps of Shiro’s parents’ house and don’t talk at all. Sometimes, being quiet with Shiro makes Keith feel the best, like he’s centered, like he’s whole. Like he’s home.

Until one weekend when he leans on the bell and someone he doesn’t know answers, a guy with long silver hair everywhere and a smirk that’s practically blinding.

_Ah, you must be Keith_ ! the guy says. _Here at nine on the button--Shiro was right._ He steps aside and waves Keith in, like it’s his place or something. _Aren’t you a punctual thing?_

Keith jams his hands in his pockets and keeps his distance. _Who are you?_

The guy laughs, this jangly noise like house keys on a chain. _Doing away with the formalities already, I see? Very well. I’m Lo. I’m a friend of Shiro’s._

_From college?_

_That's where we met, yes._

_Why are you wearing his U2 t-shirt?_   _That’s his favorite. Did he say that you could? If you mess it up, he’ll be pissed._

Lo’s eyes settle on him, amused. It’s like he knows a joke that Keith doesn’t. _I do have his permission, yes. How kind of you to keep such careful track of his things_.

_Where is he?_

_He’s upstairs. In the shower, I think. Last I checked._ He stretches his arms above his head and gives a great, luxurious yawn. The sweatpants he’s wearing--too big and too long--sag a little, show the point of his hips. _We did sleep in a bit, I’m afraid. I’m sure he’ll be down in a minute._

The house is quiet--no creak of the floors, no boom of Shiro’s dad’s cough. He finally gets it. _His mom and dad aren’t here._

Lo laughs. _No, they very much are not. If they were, I assure you, I would not be. I don’t think Shiro’s ready for that conversation yet, do you?_

There’s a rattle in Keith’s head, a strange feeling in his gut. His fists are wound so tight that his arms are shaking. _What conversation?_

Lo cocks his head, his gray eyes growing sharper. _Dear boy, didn’t you know? His parents have no idea that he’s gay._

**Author's Note:**

> Am admittedly guessing at their ages but I'm good with that.
> 
> I'd really like to finish this one...


End file.
